Heal Me
by The Hobbit Lass
Summary: Frodo falls ill and as Rosie takes care of him, Frodo begins to love her, as she is the one who makes him feel better. Sad and sweet at the same time and better than it sounds. FrodoRosie RosieSam. Oneshot.


Heal Me

Disclaimer: When last I looked, Tolkien, not The Hobbit Lass, was owner of Lord of the Rings. I had to borrow one of Theoden's lines to get my point across, but that doesn't matter. I don't own it.

I really don't know where this came from. Most of my ideas come to me either when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep, or when I'm in the shower. Yes, the shower. This came to me when I was lying in bed and it seemed a good idea at the time. Now enough of this babbling. Just read the story.

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It was the thirteenth of March. Frodo was staying at the Cotton farm and Farmer Cotton was shocked when he discovered him laying in bed and seeming to be asleep and yet not asleep. It was as if he was in a trance. He was tightly clutching a white jewel that hung around his neck, as if the jewel was the only thing connecting him to life. 

He was muttering to himself. "It is gone forever."

Farmer Cotton was alarmed. "What is it, Mr. Frodo? What's gone?"

But Frodo did not answer and continued to lay there with the jewel in his hand and his eyes half-closed. He was staring at the bedroom wall but did not seem to see it. It was eerie. "It is gone forever, and now all is dark and empty."

Farmer Cotton had never seen Frodo in such a state before. It frightened him. He left the room and fetched his daughter Rose and instructed her to take care of Frodo and make sure nothing happened to him.

Rosie did as she was told and sat by Frodo's side. She dipped a cloth in cool water and wiped his forehead with it. She put his blanket snugly around him when she thought he was cold and took it off him when he became too warm. He continued to clutch the jewel and mutter to himself and she did not try to stop him.

Frodo lay there and eventually became aware of someone. Someone who was sitting beside his bed and absently stroking his hair.

"It's all right," she was whispering, over and over again. "It's all right."

Frodo struggled to see her but it was as if a dark veil was over his eyes. As if he had been bathed in shadows and a waterfall of shadows was falling down off of his head and in front of his face. His hands felt sore. Something was tightly clenched in them. He loosened his grip on whatever it was and it rolled out of his hands.

Rosie picked up the white jewel. Luckily it was on a chain around Frodo's neck and did not roll off of the bed. She tucked the jewel inside Frodo's shirt.

Frodo felt something hard and cool fall against his skin. Someone was gently smoothing out the cloth on his chest. The touch of the person's hands was soothing. He longed to be touched again.

"Your jewel is safe," the person whispered. This time the voice was clearer than the last time he had heard it. He stared ahead of him and saw that the shadows did not seem so thick. They were thinner, as if fog had rolled right in front of his eyes.

Time ticked by, but it seemed to have frozen for him. The fog was dispersing and he could see a face bending over him. A pretty face with anxious eyes and a round full mouth and curly hair framing it. Frodo felt that her presence was calming. He felt safer.

"Where am I?" he muttered.

"Mr. Frodo?" Rosie said. "Can you see me?"

Frodo only looked into her eyes and smiled. "Hold my hand."

Rosie did as she was told. Frodo seemed to have come out of the half-unconscious state that he was in. She took him by the hand and stroked it with her thumb.

Frodo liked it when she touched him. He liked the feel of her skin against his. He wished she would stroke his hand forever. She made him feel better.

"It's all right," she was whispering again.

"Of course," Frodo whispered softly. Everything would be all right as long as she was there. If she left, he feared the shadows would come back and he wouldn't be able to see her lovely face again. Her thumb finally stopped stroking his hand and he felt disappointment. He hadn't wanted that to stop. He took his other hand and slowly brushed it down the length of her arm.

Rosie let him touch her. It was all just a part of his illness. She had to humor him, no matter what he did and said. At least he had stopped muttering about something being "gone".

"What's happened?" he murmured.

"I don't know," she replied. "You're ill."

"I feel better now," he said. "Stay here with me. Please."

"All right," she said. She straightened the blanket and patted him on the shoulder. He took both of her hands in his and just lay there like that.

"Will you stay with me forever?" he mumbled.

Rosie didn't know how to reply. He was acting very odd, but that was to be expected. She wasn't so sure though. He seemed to know what he was doing when he had touched her and taken her by the hands. She shook her head. "I cannot say."

"Say yes," he pleaded. "Will you stay by my side? Will you heal me?"

"For now," she said. "Just for now."

No. He didn't want it to be just for now. He wanted this beautiful, comforting girl to be his. His forever. She would heal him and everything would be all right.

"I'm going to bring you tea," Rosie said. She stood up, and Frodo's grip on her hands tightened. She tugged her hands free. "I'll be back. I promise I'll be back. You just relax and rest up." And then she was gone from the room. Frodo hoped her promise would hold true. If she broke that promise, he would be consumed by shadow and he didn't know if he could be saved a second time.

Rosie came back, carrying a tray. She set it on the bedside table and Frodo could see a kettle and two cups. She poured tea into one cup, and then into the other. She offered the first cup to Frodo. "Do you think you can drink?"

Of course he would drink if she asked him to. He would do anything to please her. He reached for the cup and his hand touched hers. He kept it that way for as long as he could, but then she pushed the cup into his grasp and drew her hand away.

Frodo lifted the cup to his lips and softly blew on the hot tea. He took a sip and swallowed. It warmed his insides and he took another sip. "It's good," he said.

She said nothing and sipped from her own cup. He watched her lips press against the cup, almost like a kiss. He watched her swallow and watched as she set her cup down on the tray. She met his eyes. "What is it?" He was watching her and she wondered if he needed something.

Frodo put his cup on the tray next to his bed. "If I was a teacup..." he started to mumble. She could barely catch his words. He didn't finish his sentence out loud. If he was a teacup. Her lips would taste so sweet. Maybe they were healing lips? Maybe if he felt them against his, he would be cured and the shadows would go away forever. He hated the shadows. He wanted this sunshiny healing lass instead. She would drive the shadows away.

"What is it?" Rosie repeated. "Do you need something, Mr. Frodo?"

_Yes_, he almost said. But he didn't. He shook his head and drank down the rest of the tea. Rosie picked up the tray and stood up. "Don't worry. I'll come back, but don't expect me for a while." And then she was gone again before he could stop her. He closed his eyes and went to sleep. He slept for a long time.

When he woke up, the room was empty and he felt very alone. He could almost feel the invisible presence of shadows. They were trying to creep up on him. They wanted to consume him. "NO!" he cried. He wouldn't let them take him.

The door opened. "Frodo?" Rosie said. "Was that you?"

Frodo looked at her. She was back and he felt safe. She made him feel better.

"I'm glad you're awake," Rosie said. "It's the next day now. Yesterday, you went to sleep and didn't wake up." She sat down beside him. "Do you feel better?"

He nodded. "Better. But come closer please. Heal me."

She obeyed and bent closer to him. He had been ill and she might as well do as he asked. He reached out and held her hands. "It is gone," he muttered. "Can you help me get it back?"

She didn't pull her hands out of his. She didn't want to do anything to upset a sick patient. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe." She really had no idea what he was talking about.

"Help me drive the shadows away," he whispered. "Don't let them come back." He tugged on her hands and pulled her closer to him. She was inches from his face. "I won't fall into the shadows." He lifted his head from the pillow and brought it up to her face. His lips pressed against her own and he squeezed her hands.

Rosie's eyes widened in surprise and she longed to pull away. This was all wrong. Mr. Frodo had been sick. He didn't know what he was doing. It was all a part of the sickness. All a part of the...

He finally broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. "Will you help me fight the shadows?"

She was unable to speak. "I must go," she said, and fled from the room.

Frodo leaned back against his pillows and watched her skirt disappear around a corner. Something had suddenly been awakened in him. His senses had woken up. He realized what he was doing and what he had done, and he remembered who she was. He had seen her as just an anonymous healer before, but now he considered who she was. She was Rosie. Rose Cotton. And there were so many things wrong with loving Rose Cotton.

She was too young for him.

She was of working class, and he was a gentlehobbit.

Sam loved her.

She probably loved Sam back. He couldn't gain a heart that already belonged to someone else. It would be like robbery. He couldn't steal from Sam.

Meanwhile, Rosie had gone outside and paced through the garden, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun on her face. It was wrong. It was all wrong. Something like that wasn't supposed to happen. Mr. Frodo couldn't possibly love her. It wasn't possible. She was fond of him, but could never love him. It was all wrong.

A pony and wagon pulled up to the farm. A hobbit got out and walked towards her. She looked at the hobbit. _This_ was what was right. She was sorry for Frodo but he was wrong and she had found what was right.

Frodo's behavior had startled her. Even frightened her a bit. But she would forget about it. She had found the right thing.

"Sam!"

She ran to him. She only caught a glimpse of his surprised face before she was engulfed in the brown of his jacket. That was all she could see while her head was buried in his chest.

Sam put his arms around her rather shyly. "Rosie? What does this mean?"

She looked up at him and into his kind brown eyes. She gave him a smile that said everything. "What do you think it means?"

_It means I'm the happiest man alive_, Sam thought to himself. He sat Rosie down on a bench in the garden, and he finally said what he had been wanting to say for so long. And Rosie told him yes, for it was what she had been waiting to hear, though she hadn't realized it until now.

She would have to tell Frodo, but he would be fine and he would forget about her. Perhaps it was only a product of his illness after all. Maybe someday, he would find someone who would really, truly heal him.

The end.

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Well, what do you think? Make sure you review and tell me. If you don't review, then that makes me assume that people hate it. If you actually _do_ hate it, then please review and tell me so. Come on, don't be shy. 


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